


Miri's Adventures

by adepressedmeme



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Anal Sex, Dom/sub, Dominatrix, F/M, Gentle Kissing, Gentle Sex, Oral Sex, Rough Body Play, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Roughhousing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:40:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26322031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adepressedmeme/pseuds/adepressedmeme
Summary: Testing the waters with a new character. Miri is a high elf that, unlike most of the characters I write, knows she's attractive. A picture-perfect elf, she had those long legs, golden skin and locks, bright big green eyes, high cheekbones, and a perfectly curved slim figure. This story will be written as a collection of what she does. It will mostly be plot around smut. Please feel free to make any requests and thank you for reading!
Relationships: Brynjolf/Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Revyn Sadri, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Scouts-Many-Marshes, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Ulfric Stormcloak
Comments: 11
Kudos: 20





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick intro into her character and where we are starting here.

Miri had the thieves guild wrapped around her long, golden fingers. Mercer was still the guild master, sure, but she was the one who stepped in and brought the guild back from the grave. Brynjolf had seen her altitude for their line of work the moment he saw her stroll into Riften. She stuck out, like all Altmer do. Her legs long, skin golden, frame slender, cheekbones high, and eyes the brightest shade of green he’s ever seen. He saw how she had picked the pockets of several people before making it to the market, where he was peddling his swill as miracle cures. The men in the area, including ones that were married, had turned their gaze on her. She commanded attention, yet was sneaky enough to slip her hands onto their gold. 

Like he had expected, she proved herself capable by passing his little test. Having broken into the argonian’s stall and placed his ring on the target. When she didn’t want to be seen, she was truly able to disappear. Brynjolf himself had a hard time following her. It was no surprise to him when she managed to find her way to the Ragged Flagon without a hitch. Neither did her comments on the state of the guild surprise him. She saw that they were struggling and didn’t sugar coat it. 

Miri did prove that she was up for the challenge. She started by taking simple jobs, robbing holds and individuals. Her efforts showed best when traders began to set up shop in the ratway again. Delvin respected her and even Vex was impressed. Mercer was his usual self, holding everyone at an arm's length. He almost seemed threatened by her, worried she was going to try and replace him as guildmaster. Miri seemed to have no interest in his title though, her only apparent interest was the gold she made. 

Her accomplishments weren’t the only way she wrapped the guild up though. Every man in that sewer wanted to bed her, Mercer himself included. Although, if he were to bed her it would just make for an awkward “establish dominance,” “Put you in your place,” and “I’m fucking you because I can’t kill you yet” kind of way. Miri entertained the idea of bedding several of the guild members, Vekel almost getting the honor on more than one occasion. She had found herself tousling lips with him behind the bar on a few drunken occasions. Brynjolf, though, was the only one who ever had the pleasure to be straddle by her amazing legs. 

Miri didn’t imagine ever letting a Nord enter her, but Brynjolf was more than his race. Not that she was some stuck up Thalmor bitch, unlike what most people assumed her to be, she just figured the only Nords she would attract are those that hate elves and those that hate but want to fuck elves. Brynjolf didn’t fit either category, so was graced with her body. He took it hard when she up and left, not fully understanding why she did. 

Miri didn’t tell anyone that, in truth, she was hollow. She felt herself missing purpose. Building the guild back up gave her purpose for a couple of years, but now it was better and she grew bored and each job made her feel even less fulfilled. So where did she decide to go? Windhelm of all fucking places. 

So here’s the story of Miri, the hot high elf with an empty sense of self. She’s going to get into all sorts of trouble, but she can handle it.


	2. Sadri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miri's first time in Windhelm. Ulfric is confused. Sadri likes to be dominated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters will be titled based on the main romantic pairing of the chapter

“You come here where you're not wanted, you eat our food, you pollute our city with your stink, and you refuse to help the Stormcloaks,” Rolff spat to a dark elf woman. 

“But we haven't taken a side because it's not our fight,” She defended. 

“Hey, maybe the reason these gray-skins don't help in the war is because they're Imperial spies!” A man named Angrenor commented. 

“Imperial spies? You can't be serious!” She replied. 

“Maybe we'll pay you a visit tonight, little spy. We got ways of finding out what you really are,” Rolff threatened. 

“Hey there, that’s enough of that!” Miri rushed over to the trio, towering over each of them. She enjoyed making men have to look up at her. 

“Who are you? Some Thalmor bitch?” He cashed the check that she knew his ass couldn’t cash. “You ‘tink you’re better than me? 100 septimus you can’t beat me.” 

“You’re on,” Miri brought her hands up and prepared herself to dodge, knowing her mark would strike first. 

Rolff threw a lazy left, Miri moving easily out of the way and slammed her own right square in the forehead. The man staggered back and struggled to steady himself, trying for a right this time. Again, with ease, she sidestepped him. She kept her leg out and he tripped over it. His companion let out a gasp as Miri’s fist met his jaw. The impact sent him flat to the ground. Miri clenched her jaw, her fist hurting from the Nord’s hard face. 

“That wasn’t a fair fight,” he spat blood on the snowy stone. 

“You lost, hand over the money and leave this woman alone,” Miri took the gold he held out. The two men left her, Rolff holding his head in his hands. 

“Thank you,” the Dunmer said to her, “You've come to the wrong city, friend. Windhelm's a haven of prejudice and narrow thinking, unworthy of one such as you.” 

“I wouldn’t say all that,” Miri waved her compliment off, “I’m not worth such esteem. Dark elves get a hard time here?” 

“Nothing new there. Most of the Nords living in Windhelm don't care much for us, but Rolff Stone-Fist is the worst by far. He likes to get drunk and walk around the Gray Quarter yelling insults at us in the small hours of the morning. A real charmer, that one,” she extended a hand, “I’m Suvaris Atheron, by the way.” 

“Miri,” she shook her hand, “just Miri.” She offered a smile. 

“If you need a good drink, you’ll be welcome at the New Gnisis Cornerclub,” she informed her as she turned and headed back to her home. 

Strange place, Miri thought to herself as she made her way to the palace. First thing she wanted to do was speak to the jarl’s steward, see if there were jobs available. The easiest place to start in any hold. The guards regarded her with uneasy, hostile looks. Miri was use to it though, given that she did look the part of Thalmor. Well, her clothes didn’t as she was still in her guild outfit but that didn’t matter to most people. 

When she entered the palace, Ulfric Stormcloak himself and his housecarl Galmar Stone-Fist were discussing something about the jarl of Whiterun not picking a side in the civil war yet. She made her way to his steward, who was clear to differentiate given his fine attire and writing pad in hand. 

Miri had kept her hood off knowing she would draw more negative attention from the guards if she looked suspicious, but that meant that her race was on display for everyone there. All three of the men turned their attention to her as she finished the trek from the front door to the end of the hall. 

“Only the foolish or the courageous approach a Jarl without summons...and I have not received word from the Thalmor about a visit,” Ulfric leaned forward in his throne. 

“Oh,” Miri held her hands up defensively, “I’m not with the embassy, contrary to what appears to be all of Skyrim’s belief.” She pointed to Jorleif, “I was just here to speak with him, not to interrupt you jarl.” 

“Like we would believe some Imperial Spy!” Galmar Stone-Fist had his hands on his battleaxe. 

“The weapon is unnecessary, truely,” Miri joked, “You clearly see that I’m a high elf, so I would suspect you know our abilities with the arcane arts. That weapon would do you little good.” He glared at her, “Oh and, again, not with the Thalmor. I suspect I hate them at least half as much as you.” 

“Calm yourself Galmar,” Ulfric waved a hand to steady him, “What business do you have in our city, elf?” 

“Well,” she paused, “I’m Miri, to start. My name isn’t elf. It’s a fact of life, not a brand. To answer your question, I came here because I grew bored of Riften. More specifically, I came into your palace to get a look at your current bounties from your steward.” She pointed at the man to emphasize her point. 

“And how could I trust that you aren’t an agent of the Empire?” Ulfric questioned. 

Miri simply shrugged, “I guess the Empire wouldn’t be stupid enough to send a high elf to infiltrate the Stormcloaks, given their history of racism and all that,” she smirked, “Oh and since I would appear the part of Thalmor bitch, that would ruin the whole opperation too.” 

“Such insolence!” Galmar shouted, beginning to move toward her. 

“Stone-fist! Stand down,” Ulfric commanded. 

Stone-fist? That seemed famila-oh. Oh, oh, oh. “Do you have a brother here?” Miri asked the angry brute, “Man about this tall,” she gestured to her breast, “hates dark elves, likes to fight but is really bad at it?” She grinned as his expression told her his answer. 

“What do you know of my brother?” He yelled. 

“That he likes to talk too big for himself. I laid his pale ass on the ground when he challenged me to a brawl as soon as I entered the city,” the expression on the old man’s face making Miri feel in better spirits, “I see now that the temper runs in the family.” 

Galmar grabbed his weapon again, but stopped short as Ulfric’s thunderous laugh filled the chamber, “Rolff was never good for a fight.” 

“Aye,” Galmar gave his jarl a slight smile, clearly feeling embarrassed. 

“Hey, I didn’t come here to offend. Really. Just wanted something to do, preferably something that would pay well,” Miri said to the hurt man. 

He grunted in response as Ulfric’s laugh ended, “Speak with Jorleif for the bounties,” the jarl told her, “If you have a mind to be a true daughter of Skyrim, speak to Galmar.” He turned his attention away from her, standing to move his previous conversation to another room. 

Ulfric found it hard to pay attention to his general, even though he removed himself from the distraction that found its way to his court. The Altmer woman was perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Miri, he thought to himself, her name is Miri. The first thing he had noticed was a tall figure entered the hall, then by the glow of her skin in the torch light he recognized her race. His first thoughts were of the Thalmor and the possibility of attack. Once he determined her not an imperial agent, he began to notice other things. The way her legs looked like they would never end, her long neck bent slightly as she spoke, her full lips mouthing each word thoughtfully. It had been a while since Ulfric bedded a woman, which is what he brushed off as his reason to have been hard in her presence. No way would he, a proud Nord, be aroused by a high elf unless he was desperate for any femine touch. Still, even after having taken himself in hand that night, he found himself thinking of her. 

… 

“Giant is gone!” Miri called out to Jorleif as she entered the palace. She brought him the monster’s toe as proof. He handed her a satchel of about 500 gold. Ulfric wasn’t on his throne then, almost making her want to ask where he was. She didn’t want to look suspicious though. 

She exchanged pleasantries with the steward before heading back out. She got some loot from the giant she wanted to sell, making her way to Sadri's Used Wares. The Dumner was polite, but found himself sweating when she asked him how he could know all his wares were legitimate. Having fenced some herself, Miri knew it wasn’t too difficult to make things appear one way or another. He pleaded with her to return a gold ring he thought was stolen. Miri was amused but accepted the job. It would be her first time knowing of a thief to return something, not that that would be all she did. She also robbed the house of all its spare gold while there. Some habits die hard. 

Sadri was very grateful, paying Miri well and offering her a special rate at his store. There was also something else that was unspoken behind his eyes. Miri could tell he was interested in her by the way he licked his lips and hesitated when he spoke to her. Miri had never tried a Dunmer before, but she was curious now. She was used to most of the men she bedded to be shorter of stature than her, but she liked it that way. She liked feeling more powerful than men. 

“Sadri?” She asked him, leaning on the counter, “Are you interested in me?” 

“What?” He was taken aback by her boldness. 

“I see the way you’re looking at me,” she asked again, “Are you interested in me?” 

“You are pleasant company, more than pleasant. And what about you? Are you interested in me?” He questioned. 

Miri smirked and turned to lock the front door, “Won’t want anyone walking in now, would we?” 

Sadri made an audible gulping noise as Miri strolled back to the counter. He was nervous, shifting his weight side to side. Miri jumped on the counter and pulled him into her with those long legs of hers. 

“Think you can handle me?” She whispered in his ear after licking up the side of his neck. 

“I think you will find me more than adequate,” he replied, gripping at her waist. 

“Ever been with an Altmer?” She questioned, her hands running through his hair. 

“No,” he moved to look her in the eye, “Should I be concerned?” 

“Maybe,” she giggled, taking his lips in hers. 

His kiss was pleasant, better than she expected. The smaller man ran his hands up and down the length of her back and legs, touching and trying to find the buckles of her outfit. Miri clenched him tighter with her thighs, moving her hands to unfasten her top. She pulled it off, exposing herself to him. She didn’t bother wearing anything under her armor other than her small clothes.

Sadri’s face was already close to her chest, so it took no effort for him to take one of her breasts in his hand and the other in his mouth. Miri pulled his head into her, directing him on how she wanted him to lick and suck. He followed her orders to the letter, making her unravel. 

“Take your clothes off,” she demanded, pushing him off of her body. He complied quickly as she removed her trousers. “Here, on the counter. Take me.” 

“As you wish,” Sadri replied. 

She spread her legs for him, flexible enough to nearly do a full split in the air. Sadri took in a deep breath to concentrate before sliding into her slick folds. Miri leaned her head back to enjoy the sensation of being spread. He wasn’t the biggest she’s had, but he had enough to work with. Miri rocked her hips back and forth on him to angle his cock just right. 

“More than pleasant company,” he joked. 

Miri smirked and pulled his body closer to her with her hands on his shoulder blades. He was smaller than her, but she was okay with that. It meant she knew she could control him and that’s all that mattered. She wanted control and she was going to have it. 

“Harder,” she commanded and he obliged. 

Her head rolled back again at the sound of flesh pounding on flesh. He would do just fine for her needs. Sadri seemed eager to please. Miri brought her hand to his hair and tugged it back, making his chin lift in the air. She brought her lips to his neck, giving a soft kiss before biting. He whimpered at the pain, but she soothed it out with more kisses. 

“Harder,” she demanded again. Sadri took in a deep breath and gave his thrusts everything he had. Miri liked it rough, but only when she wanted it. Screw what the other wanted, she only cared for her own pleasure. “If you make me cum, I’ll let you finish.” She said hoarsely in his ear. 

“Let me?” He questioned, not letting up. 

“You heard me, now get on your knees,” she instructed. His brow was raised but he pulled out and did as directed. Miri tugged his hair again and pulled him between her legs, “Eat.” 

And eat he did. Like his life depended on it. Part of him was just really horny and turned on from her orders, but another portion of him was scared. He didn’t think she would actually harm him, but he knew she could. She could kill him easily and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. Sadri found it thrilling and terrifying all at once. Maybe this is what she meant by that maybe. He had heard that Altmer women had a reputation for being bossy in the bedroom, but he had never expected to ever experience it first hand. High elves didn’t like dirtying their bloodlines with any other races. 

Miri felt her bud engorge from Sadri’s work and she was on the cusp of her orgasm. She dug her nails into his scalp and pulled him even closer into her, nearly suffocating him. Sadri brought a finger up and pressed it into her, pressing the release. Her juices flooded his mouth, sweet like snowberries. She tasted amazing and, by the smug expression on her face, she knew it. 

“Good?” She wasn’t really asking. 

“I’m sure you already know,” Sadri didn’t give her the satisfaction of a proper answer. 

“Mhmm,” she curled a finger up to motion him to stand again, “That’s why I eat berries every day.” She took a moment to look at his erection, slick with his own precum. “You may enter again, but don’t you dare spill inside of me.” 

Sadri nodded to acknowledge her request, then hilted into her with no resistance. Miri thrust her hips to match his, deciding he earned the right to have some assistance from her. It only took a few more pumps for him to pull out and finish on the floor, the white ropes hitting the counter on the way down. 

“Looks like you have a mess to clean up,” Miri commented and she hopped off the counter and slid her pants back on. 

“I suppose you won’t help with that,” he sighed, pulling on his pants too. 

“Not my shop,” she shrugged, buckling her top. 

“Yes,” Sadri couldn’t help but watch as she soothed her hair and the wrinkles from her armor, “Don’t suppose you would like to stay for a bit?” 

“No,” she offered him a fake frown, “I’m not the staying type. Thank you for the tumble though,” she had a wicked grin now, “You were more than adequate.” 

Sadri nodded, telling her to come again as she headed out the door. Miri chuckled a bit to herself. As if she would give him the pleasure. No, few people deserved to have her and even fewer deserved her more than once. Brynjolf was the only one who held that honor right now and he had to work very hard for it. The High Elf continued out of the cold stone town, headed for the Bandit leader on her next bounty slip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know of any pairing requests you have for Miri or just anything you want to see in general.


	3. Scouts-Many-Marshes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mine and Miri's favorite reptilian friend.

Miri strolled the docks of Windhelm. She had no particular reason to be there other than the fact she hadn’t seen it before. That’s often how Miri found new things to do. Argonian workers unloaded the ships docked there. Miri was impressed with people who do such hard labor everyday and thankful there were those willing. Divines know she would never settle for such manual labor. 

A particular Argonian caught her eye. He was a dark green with the most beautiful blue feathers on his head. She approached him as he was taking a seat to rest from the last bit of lumber he carried. The Argonian met her eyes as she approached and gave her a greeting smile. 

“Good morning,” she spoke first. 

“A fine morning to you too,” he replied. 

“Do all Argonians in Windhelm work at the Docks?” She asked. 

“Aye. We aren’t allowed to live inside the city and the Nords don’t like to unload their own ships. Shatter-Shield, East Empire Company... we'll work for any ship that pulls in, as long as they can pay,” he answered. 

“That’s awful,” Miri responded, “Looks like you’re getting it worse than the Dunmer.” 

“Yes. I wish the Nords, Argonians and dark elves in Windhelm got along better,’ he sighed, “We're used to getting by on scraps, but the Shatter-Shields want everything for nothing.”

“Someone causing you trouble?” Miri tilted her head. 

“Torbjorn Shatter-Shield. I wish someone would beat the coin out of his fat fists. He clings to every Septim. He says an Argonian's labor is only worth a tenth of a "proper Nord worker." My people are not slaves!” The Argonian got himself worked up. 

“Proper Nord worker, heh? I’ll have a little talk with him,” Miri began to walk back into the city. 

“You can try, but we've gotten nowhere talking to him ourselves,” he commented as she walked away. 

…

“Looks like you’ll be getting a proper Nord’s wages after all,” Miri announced as she approached the Argonian from before. 

“You talked Torbjorn down? I'm impressed,” he replied with a smile, “I’m afraid I don’t have much to reward you will but-”

Miri cut him off with a raised palm, “Don’t worry about it.” 

“You are very kind-ah, I never got your name,” he extended a hand to shake hers with, “I am Scouts-Many-Marshes.” 

“Miri,” she shook his hand. 

“You are a very kind soul,” he complimented, “Not many care about others' struggles.” 

“I used to have it pretty rough too,” Miri replied, “Got to look out for each other when we can.” 

“Yes. I wish everyone in Windhelm shared that idea. I must reward you for your effort though,” he paused and stroked his chin, “Maybe I can show you a few things about that light armor?”

“Hmm,” Miri gave it a thought, but a better one came to mind, “Is there anywhere private nearby?” 

“There should not be anyone in the Argonian Assemblage,” he replied. 

“Then that’s where we shall go,” She let him lead the way and unlock the wooden doors. Scouts-Many-Marshes didn’t get the hint about her wanting privacy. Miri took no time in getting things started, surprising the reptile. She ran those long fingers over the scales on his head and through those marvelous feathers. If her parents back on the Summerset Isles knew the things she had planned on doing to this argonian, they would die of embarrassment. Miri was their let down after all. 

“I see you didn’t want privacy for training,” Scouts felt himself melting at her touch. 

“Is that a problem?” Miri purred. 

“No. Not at all,” he groaned a bit as her hands ran down his back, “You are a beautiful woman. Surely there is someone else you’d rather do this with. A man or mer perhaps?” 

“Mmmmm,” She tugged at the hem of his tunic and he helped her remove it to reveal those softer belly scales. “No one coming to mind.” 

“Then I shall not refuse a blessing such as this one,” he kissed her neck and let his hands roam around her body, unsure where he wanted to focus. 

Miri ran her hands down his torso to around where his member should be. Scouts removed his trousers and Miri squealed in delight as she watched his erection grow from a hidden part of his body. It was something she both hadn’t seen and hadn’t heard of. She was expecting it to look like a man or mers, but it was very different. 

“Not what you were expecting?” He asked her. 

“Not at all,” she grabbed it in one hand. It was slick. 

“Think you can handle it?” He felt confident in himself now. 

In truth it was longer than any she had taken before, “Oh I can definitely handle it. Which bed is yours?” 

He pointed at the one closest to the fireplace. Miri led him there by the hand. She quickly removed all her armor and kicked it out of the way. Miri wanted this in a specific way, getting on all fours on the straw mattress. 

“Don’t feel like you have to hold back. I like it to hurt a little,” She told him, “While you’re at it, why don’t you dig those claws in a bit too.” 

“If that’s what you want,” Scouts’ member glided into her, his nails pressed hard against her hips. 

“Fuck,” Miri moaned. 

She set the pace, hard but slow to start. Scouts was being a good sport, not fighting her for dominance in the situation. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to become a regular and maybe her favorite. Miri picked up the pace, chasing her orgasm. 

Scouts-Many-Marshes twitched in her. The tip of his erection stroked just the right spot. Miri had him hold there while she rolled herself on it. His claws dug in enough now to draw a little blood as she reached her climax.

“That was good,” she moved herself to a seated position and patted on a spot on the bed beside her, “Have a seat, you deserve a good finish.” 

He did as told. Only an idiot would risk not listening and having her leave. Miri pulled herself into his lap and guided his length back into her. He moaned her name, pushing his snout on her neck. She rode him, bouncing up and down as she moved her hips forward and back. He kept his hands running up and down her back. 

“Bite me,” she instructed and leaned her head to the side to give him access to her. 

“You sure about that? I don’t want to hurt you,” Scouts questioned. 

“I want to be hurt,” Miri assured him. 

Hesitantly, he bit down on the spot right above her collarbone. She mewled and thrust herself on him hard. He was close now. 

“Miri, I-” 

“I know,” she interrupted and brought a hand to his cheek, “It’s okay.” 

She put a tender kiss on the scale on his brow, a sharp contrast to her aggressive movements. Scouts-Many-Marshes came hard, filling her completely. Miri didn’t often let people finish inside her, but she didn’t have to worry about pregnancy with an Argonian. They weren’t compatible for reproduction. 

Miri hopped off his lap and slid back into her armor, “I’ll be seeing you again Scouts.”


	4. Ulfric: Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can expect many parts to Miri and Ulfric

Miri took her time in the palace making way to the steward. Even though she had no love for the man who built the place, she still enjoyed the architecture. It’s something few people in Skyrim appreciated. Most just wanted four walls and a roof to be happy. This palace though, she could live here and still be amazed by it everyday. Even if it was colder than an argonian’s balls. That much, she now could testify to.  
“Miri,” Ulfirc’s voice boomed out to the wandering elf, speaking over the few citizens gathered at his throne. 

“Ulfric,” Miri mocking imitated his voice by lowering her own with outstretched arms. 

“That’s Jarl Ulfric to you, elf,” Galmar spat. 

“Did you ever stop to think I had a title too?” Miri cocked her head and hid her smile. 

“Do you?” Ulfric asked. 

“Maybe,” she shrugged, “Guess you’ll never know.” 

Ulfric chuckled as Galmar stared daggers into her, “I see you still have your sharp tongue. I’ve heard you been taking on all the bounties I have out. Would you care to join me for dinner?” 

Miri wasn’t sure if she looked more shocked or Galmar took the cake, “Dinner?” 

“Yes. I like to reward all those doing good for my city with a shared meal,” Ulfric replied. 

“Alright,” Miri smiled, “I won’t say no to food. Unless it’s poisoned.” She made a dramatic pause, “It’s not poisoned is it?” 

Another chuckle, “No. Meet me back here in a few hours.” It wasn’t often that Ulfric chuckled, even less that it happened twice. 

“Alright Jarl,” Miri waved and left. 

Galmar couldn’t believe his charge, “Are you seriously- with that Thalmor bitch?!” 

“Relax Galmar,” Ulfric held up his palm, “It’s just a meal.” 

“Just a meal my ass. You’re trying to bed the whore,” Galmar literally spat on the floor, “I’ve seen the way you look at her.” 

“I don’t think that’s any of your concern, my old friend,” Ulfric didn’t deny a desire to bed Miri. He turned his attention back to his citizens. 

… 

“Well, what the fuck did you get yourself into Miri?” She spoke aloud to herself as she looked in her inn room for clothes. “You don’t have anything nice enough for dinner with a damned Jarl.” She sighed at herself. “Guess it’s time to do some shopping.” 

Miri headed to Sadri’s wares, wholly unimpressed by his women’s clothing. They didn’t have a single piece that was long enough for her impressive, over six foot height. Not all was lost though, because he did have a set of remarkably well kept glass armor that had to have belonged to a high elf before her. 

After some flirting and a quick hand job, Miri got the price down to be affordable and took the whole set. Back at the inn, she polished it to a shine and adjusted some of the straps to fit her better. It was not something she would have worn while working with the guild as it stood out, but it was nice to feel pretty yet intimidating at the same time. Much better than the drab guild’s leathers. 

Miri left her hair down for once, brushing it until it was straight and even. Her auburn waves manage to be tamed with the help of a little magic. She even went a little out of the way to line her eyes with a deep red color, along with painting her lips. Taking a look in the looking glass, she was a stunning image of green, gold, and red. If she were honest, she’d fuck herself. In fact, she planned to once the dinner was over. 

The guards no longer gazed at her with contempt, but with a sense of surprise. They weren’t used to dolled up, on display Miri. No, they only knew drap Miri. Oh who was she kidding, she knew she never looked drap. Modest is the word she was looking for. Now her figure was flaunted along with each highlighted feature of her face and skin. 

All eyes were on her as she entered the palace, just the way she liked it. Jarl Ulfric hadn’t seen her enter yet, speaking to a well decorated Stormcloak soldier. She managed to sneak up behind him, clearing her throat for his attention. His eyes went wide, equal parts startled and surprised. 

“Miri?” He looked her up and down. 

“The one and only,” she dramatically cast her hands up, “Here in the flesh.” 

“I see that. I was not expecting you to show in...armor like that,” he looked her over once more. 

“It’s new. You like?” She teased. 

“Yes,” he gestured toward the end of a longtable, “please, join me.” 

The dinner was nice. Roasted deer, stewed root vegetables, and sweet rolls delight. Miri kept to herself for the most part, offering snide remarks and passing comments. Ulfric was pretty wrapped up in military talk with officers at the table. Miri had no interest in this civil war. To her, it was just another Nord dick measuring contest. She did, however, have interest in the Jarl beside her. 

He was a handsome, rugged man. He was a little taller than her, much broader, and his voice made her tremble. Few men would ever be able to scare her, but this man just might be up to the task. It delighted her, and the evidence was clear between her legs. 

“Miri,” Ulfric gathered her attention, “Where do you stand on the war?” 

“Oh, you don’t want my opinion,” she waved a hand and laughed awkwardly, hoping he would drop it. 

He did not, “I do, in fact. I would like to have an outside pair of eyes.” 

“Well...damn. I don’t know? I share no love of the Thalmor, or my homeland. Yet, I don’t worship your Talos nor care for the particular brand of Nordic racism I have experienced in my time in Skyrim,” she paused as all the men’s eyes except Ulfric’s were angry on her, “That said, I personally don’t give a rat’s ass who wins. If things here become unagreeable in my daily life, I’ll leave. I have no horse in this race, as it were.” 

“I thank you for your honesty,” Ulfric gave her a smile, “Perhaps we can discuss this more...in private?” He knew his men were looking alarmingly hostile. 

“If you wish,” she was suddenly eager to be elsewhere. 

“I do,” he stood, “Men. Enjoy the rest of the meal. Miri?” he offered a hand that she took. 

“So, where are we headed?” She asked as they went up a winding staircase. 

“My quarters,” he held the door open for her. 

“Oh Ulfric,” she cast the back of her hand to her forehead, “whatever will the others say?” 

He laughed heartily, “They know better than to wag their tongues. Here, some wine?” He grabbed two goblets. 

Miri sat at the edge of his enormous bed and crossed her legs, “Gladly.” 

“So, I have to ask. You said you don’t worship Talos,” he poured her a glass from the bottle, “Do you not believe him a god?” 

Miri took a deep sip of her wine before answering, “Honestly? I have no fucking clue. I don’t worship any gods.” 

Ulfric raised a brow, “Truly? Not a single one?”  
Miri shrugged, “Why should I? What have the gods done for me?” 

Ulfric paused at that, “Fair point. They aren’t as involved in our lives like the daedric princes are.” 

“Fuck them too,” Miri finished her wine and held her goblet out for a refill, “Especially Clavicus Vile.” 

Ulfric raised a bigger brow, “What he do?” 

“Ah it’s a long story but, he tried to have me kill his dog. Anyone who willingly lets dogs die can rot for all I care,” she grimaced, “I miss mine.” 

“You had a war hound I take it?” He questioned. 

“Oh no. Tiny little rat dog,” she put her hands about a foot apart, “About this big. Hated everyone but me. Little bugger kept the mice out of my house.” 

“And where is home for you?” He asked, sipping his first glass of wine. 

“Now? Wherever my bag rests. Originally the Summerset Isle like most Altmer, but that was a long time ago,” Miri looked at the many books lining his shelves. 

“Can I ask how long?” He moved closer to her. 

“No,” she smirked, “You shouldn't ask a woman her age.” 200-some years never looked so good. 

“Fair enough,” he chuckled, “I assume you have some questions for me?” 

“Hm,” Miri downed her second glass, “Does your room retain sound well?” 

“Does my-” Ulfric stammered, “I suppose so…” 

“Does your bed squeak?” She continued. 

“No, I-” 

“And,” she interrupted and stood, “Do you like women?” 

“Yes but-” 

Miri pressed her hands on his chest, pushing him back into the stone wall. Ulfric lost his words, focus unwavering on those emerald green eyes. His mouth went slack and his trousers tight. Never had a woman laid hands on him like this. Her eyes felt like they were seeing through his very soul. 

She smiled, “You’re actually turned on by this aren’t you?” She backed away. 

“Dammit woman!” Ulfric shouted, pulling her back into him by her arms. 

“Oh my,” she said dramatically with a laugh, “I touched a nerve.” 

“For fuck’s sake,” he uttered before crashing his lips to hers. 

His thinner lips were rather pleasant on hers, practiced and precise. Her hands snaked to his hair, tangling in it. She didn’t plan on actually bedding him tonight, but he was being very tempting. Miri put her hands back on his chest, pushing with enough force to make him stop. Ulfric gave her a confused look as she put her hand on his shoulder. 

“Down,” she commanded. 

“Excuse me?” He scoffed. 

“You heard me. Get on your knees,” she couldn’t stop her grin. 

Ulfric kept his eyes on her for any sign of a joke, but did as told. Miri guided his hands to the straps holding her fauld. He undid it, still keeping his eyes on her and that cat-like grin. Ulfric ran his hands up the tassets of her glass armor, smiling once his hands feel how wet she is already. 

“Alright, Jarl,” She emphasised his title, “Show me what you can do.” 

Ulfric couldn’t stop his laugh of disbelief, “You are one bold woman.” 

Miri smiled, “Less talking, more showing.” 

Ulfric wanted to impress this statuesque woman. To him, she was like a Goddess coming down from the heavens. Perfect in every way. Ulfric started by pushing her small clothes to the side, running his thumb over her folds, spreading her slick to coat her entirely. Miri let her eyes close, enjoying his slow, tantalising strokes. She rewarded his efforts with soft moans. 

Encouraged by her sounds, Ulfric raised his head to her sex. He licked in long lines and tight circles everywhere he could. Ulfric had a large tongue, so he nearly took all of her with each lap. Miri wound her hands in his long hair, tugging him slightly. He responded, pushing his tongue inside her. 

“Fuck,” Miri gasped. 

He went further than she was anticipating, curling the muscle to brush against her most sensitive spot. It wouldn’t take much longer to push her over the edge and Ulfric could sense that. Just as he started adding a finger into the mix, there was a loud banging at the door. 

“JARL ULFRIC!” Galmar shouted. 

“DAMMIT MAN, GIVE ME A MOMENTS PEACE!” Ulfric yelled back. 

“CAN’T WAIT. THERE’S BEEN AN ATTACK ON THE CAMP IN THE PALE. WE NEED YOU NOW!” His housecarl replied. 

“For Talos’ sake,” Ulfric stood quickly, giving Miri an apologetic look, “I’m sorry, but I have to see to this.” He started to leave, but turned back at the door, “May we continue this another time?” 

“Sure thing. Go do your...war things,” Miri sighed and strapped her armor back on. 

She stood awkwardly in his quarters for a few more moments before grabbing a title from his shelf and leaving. She was sure he wouldn’t miss it. Miri didn’t plan on coming back anytime soon, even if he was good with his mouth. She wasn’t one to linger on one person, so she packed her bags and headed for another hold to find trouble in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where do you want to see Miri go next?


End file.
